


Crashing Into You

by devylish



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devylish/pseuds/devylish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>older fic being archived here at AOOO</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. What The Hell Happened?

**Author's Note:**

> older fic being archived here at AOOO

Veronica coughed and spat out what seemed like half of her own body weight before she gasped and gathered in a solid lungful of air.

Her body, seemingly confused by the sudden presence of oxygen, revolted against the breath she'd taken and forced her to cough that out as well... followed by more pockets of salty water.

As she wretched up the other half of her body, she vaguely began to make out what was going on around her. A hand was on her side, turning and holding her body at an angle so that she wasn't drowning in her own sickness…. And somewhere just above her head she could vaguely hear a voice talking to her.

"Good fucking girl! Way to go Ronnie! Dude I knew you could do it! Good girl!"

The fuzziness that was her brain slowly began to clear and Veronica realized that the voice – and the hand at her back – belonged to the same person… Dick Casablancas. She also slowly became aware of the fact that she was lying on something soft, and her clothes were soaking wet.

"Are you okay? Don't move too much; just take a few more breaths. Slow, shallow breaths. You're doing great!"

 _What was with the pep talk?_ She thought through a haze. "I'm okay Dick." She coughed again as she rolled onto her back, pushing against his hand, and his frame. She felt his body fall away from her as he collapsed onto his back with an audible sigh.

"Dude! Fuck me! That CPR shit actually works!"

'CPR'? Her eyes fluttered open and she jerked her head to the side to look at Dick. "CPR?"

"Yeah! You weren't breathing when I dragged you on shore so I –"

"Dragged me on shore?!" Lifting her head up as much as she could, which was tantamount to two inches, she looked around and verified that she was indeed on a beach, covered in wet clothes and wet sand.

Dropping her head down unceremoniously, she took the recommended shallow breath and for the first time realized that there was a tender spot on the middle of her chest – the kind you'd expect to feel after someone spent a minute or two trying to force your heart to start beating again. She lifted her hand to her chest, gently touching her sternum, and then she lifted her hand to her forehead, pulling it away to find a smear of red on her fingertips. Maybe she was having problems prying memories out of her normally computer-like brain because of the gash on her head.

"Hey! Don't touch that…. I'll find something to clean it with in a second."

"What?"

"The cut… on your head…. Don't touch it…. You'll get sand and shit in it." Dick had lifted himself on to an elbow and was looking down at her with apprehension.

"Is it bad?"

He lifted his eyes to her hairline. "No. I just wouldn't… it would fucking suck to have worked that hard to keep you from drowning, just to have you die of a fucking infection."

"Nice to see you care Dick," Veronica responded with a weak snarl.

"If I didn't care I wouldn't have dragged your ass…" he paused and glanced at her eyes. "Never mind."

Veronica closed her eyes against the sun… and the unidentifiable something that had passed over Dick's face. _Ignore Dick. Pain in the ass, though he's always been, you've become quite adept at ignoring him…. So do it now. Think about the amazingly unbelievable situation you find yourself in._

Yeah.

_Easier said than done._

Veronica's brain wasn't moving at its usual speed or power. With a half smile she thought _this must be what Dick's brain ALWAYS feels like!_

' _Okay Mars. Think. Where are you?_ '

' _On a beach.'_

She sighed to herself. _Yeah… okay… fine… really smart Mars…. What else do you know_?

' _Dick performed CPR on me because I was drowning.'_

She lifted her fingertips to her chest again. Then slid them up to her lips. ' _That would mean he's basically gotten to second base with me_.' She giggled inwardly.

' _Okay, clearly the salt water has damaged my mind. Focus_!' Veronica dug through her memory.

The past 24 hours came back to her in fragments. She recalled sitting curled up on the couch at home and the doorbell ringing. She recalled opening it to find Dick standing there leaning against the doorframe. A tall, blonde drink of stupid…..

" _Dick."_

" _Ronnie." He stood looking down at her for a second. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"_

_She tilted her head to the side in thought, "DOES one invite the devil in to their home?"_

_He lifted his hands to his chest grabbing his heart in mock pain… "I'm hurt Ronica… really, really hurt. I come here, in peace… because you're a friend… and you call me 'the devil'?"_

_With a sigh she stepped aside and waved him into the apartment. "Fine, come in. But be aware, I bear holy water, I just ate garlic pizza, AND I know that you want something."_

_Closing the door with her back, she watched Dick meander his way through the small kitchen area and back around to the living room. "So this is Chez Mars, huh?"_

" _This is our Thursday home. We have a totally different home for the other days of the week. What do you want Dick?"_

" _A beer?"_

_She quirked an eyebrow at him._

" _Uh, yeah, right… okay. I have a proposition for you."_

" _I've told you before Dick… I'm not putting on a maids' outfit and using a feather duster on you."_

_She said the words half jokingly… He HAD asked her to do that… once. She smirked as she curled up on the couch… if she recalled correctly, she'd tasered him in response to that request._

" _Dude! Stop smiling. That wasn't even funny! And that's not what I want to proposition you about this time."_

_Her grin broadened as she looked up at him, apparently, he was recalling the same incident. "Okay, so spill Blondie… what's the what?"_

_Dick paced back and forth in front of the breakfast bar a few times before he headed over to sit on the couch next to her. "So, yeah, uh, I want to buy your services."_

_Her eyebrow lifted again._

" _Not those kind of services! I do have thoughts that aren't focused on sex you know!"_

The eyebrow _. He wondered if the damn thing had a mind of its own._ " _Okay… sex makes up 85 percent of my thinking… but the other 15 percent is being used now."_

_As Veronica remained silent, Dick continued. "So yeah, I have this business that I started up a year ago, and umm, these people in Hawaii that I've been working with –"_

" _Wait, wait, wait, did you just say that you own a business?"_

" _Yeah, and there are these guys who I want to bring on board –"_

" _You?! You own a business?"_

" _Dude!"_

" _I'm sorry, but umm, you as a business man, not my idea of realistic."_

" _Yeah well get the fuck over it, it's real."_

" _And you're here because you want a favor from me? That language isn't quite getting you there Dickie."_

_He took a deep breath and continued. "These dudes I want to bring on board, they seem to be legit when it comes to the shit" He glanced up at her, "erh, the 'crap' they can offer me… stores and local advertising, but… uhm I don't know… It's just been me and Demon running the business up until now, and I don't know I can trust these guys… and…" he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, "I thought maybe you –"_

" _You thought maybe I could do what I do and checkc these guys out for you?"_

" _Yep."_

" _Why me? I mean, there's the better business bureau, there are plenty of PI's around. Heck, even Mac would look up the background info. On these guys for you."_

" _I don't trust them. I trust you. Well, I mean, I trust Mac, but I don't just want the computer shit on these guys, I want to know if they're… well, dude, this is MY business. Demon and I have put a lot of time and energy into it, and I don't want some fuckers, who look good on paper, messing my fucking shit up… especially," he winked in what he probably thought was a complimentary manner at Veronica, "especially when I have a power PI like you who can like, fucking sense when people are screwing with her."_

" _Compliments will get you everywhere." She pulled at a piece of lint on her shorts._

" _So, uh, will you do it?"_

" _Basically, you want me to research these guys AND you want me to meet them and feel them out?"_

" _Yeah. Do that voodoo that you do so well. That Mars 'bullshit' radar shit."_

 _She sighed and looked over at Dick. HE was peering at her intently, a look of hopefulness in his eyes._ Crap. He's serious about this. _With another long drawn out sigh, she nodded her head. "Fine Dick. I'll do it. But you're paying double my normal rate."_

" _Double?!"_

" _I have to deal with you…. So yeah… double."_

" _Fine. Fine, whatever." He hopped up and began pacing, "I'll get a plane ready, and we can head out in a couple of days."_

" _A plane!? Head out? What haven't you told me Dick?"_

" _Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a plane…. Did I forget to mention that Arbor and Smith, the guys who want to get involved in my business are located in Hawaii?"_

 _She stared up at him. Well really, it was less a stare and more a glare. "Yeah. You kinda forgot to mention that." She briefly considered changing her mind, and then she realized: Hawaii. Hawaii, making double her regular rate. Not a bad situation… if she could get past the fact that she'd be forced to spend time with Dick._ Oh well, every case has its down side.


	2. You Tarzan, Me Jane

They passed a few minutes in silence before Dick hopped up and stripped off his shirt.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm going to swim out to the plane and see if I can salvage our luggage and maybe the first aid kit."

"I'll go with you." Her voice was strong, but her body was weak.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Nice to see you've mastered the word 'no' Dick, it's now time to progress to the word 'yes'."

"Dude, which of us surfs every day of their life?"

"You"

"Which of us is the stronger swimmer?"

"…You."

"Which of us doesn't have a giant gash on his head?"

"Giant?!" She reached up to touch her forehead, stopping only when Dick took a step toward her.

"Dude!" He then added, "It's not giant, I exaggerated, but still, one of us has a wound and one of us doesn't. Who would the woundless one be?"

Veronica sighed. "You."

"Which one of us is sexier than the other one?"

"Yo-, wait, not fair. Head injury here. Don't take advantage."

Dick perused her waterlogged, bedraggled, bleeding form. "Dude, I think I can pretty safely say I'm not planning to take advantage of you any time soon."

Veronica flopped back onto the sand, suddenly overwhelmed with a lack of energy. She did retain enough energy, however, to lift her middle finger in Dick's direction while she said "Go. Go do manly things."

"Arrhhh arrhh arrhhhh." Dick beat his chest gorilla fashion and dropped his shirt next to her. He moved his hands to the button of his shorts and flipped open the button.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's with the full monty?"

"Dude my clothes are wet. And I'm assuming the clothes in our suitcases are wet. Maybe, by the time I get back to shore, these pieces will be dry, or at least drier."

Veronica gave a grudging nod of approval. "Sensible plan."

"You might want to take off your clothes too." He stood in his wet boxers, his arms wrapped around his waist and stared down at Veronica with a waggle in his eyebrow.

She pursed her lips and looked up at him. "I think I remember someone just telling me that they weren't interested in taking advantage of me?"

Dick grinned, his stupid brilliant grin, "Dude, I said I wasn't going to jump _**you**_. I didn't say that I wouldn't let _you_ jump _me_." He held his arms out to his side invitingly.

Veronica picked up his discarded shirt and threw it at him.

He simply smirked, turned around and started walking away; he'd gone maybe five feet before he turned back with a grin. "You do realize that I just won like two arguments with you, don't you?"

Veronica smiled, not looking up at him, "Umm, yeah, I again point out to you that I'm wounded. So, you just revel in the novelty of your little wins Dick."

He laughed and headed out to the water.

Veronica turned on her side and watched Dick's figure melt into the water. With a sigh, she pushed herself up into a seated position. If Dick was being proactive about their situation, maybe she needed to gather herself and be a little more proactive herself. Yeah, she'd be proactive... just as soon as her head stopped spinning.

(())

Dick paced himself as he swam out to the wreck. The nose of the plane had landed on a sandbar, her ass up in the air almost at a forty-five degree angle. As he moved closer to the plane, he noted nothing much had changed since he'd dragged an unconscious Veronica out of the wreckage.

He'd never been so scared before in his life. When the plane stopped responding… yeah, that was bad… scary bad. When they crashed… scarier bad. But when he looked over into the passenger seat and saw Veronica slumped over in her seatbelt, awkwardly bent and blood dripping down her forehead, he'd freaked.

_It had taken him nearly a minute to extricate himself from his own seatbelt, not because of any mechanical malfunctions, but because his hands were shaking that badly. The whole time, he was calling her name. Trying to get a sign from her that she was still alive; that he hadn't lost someone else in his life._

_Not that he and Mars hung out on the regular. But they'd always circled one another. Mars had always been there._

_A petite, hot, pain in the ass._

_Finally free from his own buckle he hesitantly raised his hand to touch her. To make certain she was still… still…._

" _Hell yes! Pulse! All fucking right!"_

_And suddenly, everything was okay again. Not perfect, but doable._

_He clicked her seatbelt open and caught her as she sagged out of her seat._

_Glancing around them, he was able to see that they were on some sort of sand - water covered sand - but not deep enough to present an immediate problem._

_Fighting with his door to get it open, he shoved all of his weight against it, pushing until he heard it creaking open and finally giving way._

" _Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he cursed as he half climbed, half fell out of the plane – Veronica in hand._

_Holding her up he looked around and realized they were on a sandbar and that 'real land' was maybe half a mile away from them._

_He looked down at Veronica and shifted her in his arms. He couldn't lay her down where they were because, while the water wasn't deep, it_ _**was** _ _up to his calves. There was no way he could try cpr on her in this setting. He shook her a bit. "Now would be a great time for you to open that constantly moving mouth of yours Ronnie."_

_Nothing._ _**Shit** _ _._

_Okay, he judged the distance. His last, at sea, one mile swim had clocked in at 20 minutes. Of course, that had been in swim trunks and without a 100lb weight tied to his body. He glanced at her anxiously, 'would she hold out for twenty plus minutes?'_

" _Fuck it Dick!" he yelled at himself, "You're definitely not helping the situation any by just standing here thinking. Thinking is so fucking overrated."_

_Moving Ronnie so that she was leaning against his body in a dead man's carry, he headed to the edge of the shoal and jumped into the water._

_()_

Veronica sat precariously for about five minutes before finally feeling she wasn't going to puke or fall over. Gingerly standing up she took a couple of deep breaths before taking a good look around her.

The beach extended in either direction for 200-300 feet before curving out of eyesight. Behind her there was about 25 feet of white sand before trees and bushes took over in a thick 'jungle'.

Bending over, she slowly picked up Dick's shirt and shorts. She reasoned they'd dry faster if they were hung up so she headed toward the trees that stood just behind her and layed the clothes out on a few of the closer branches.

Glancing down at her own wet, irritating clothing she contemplated stripping to her underwear and hanging her own clothes to breeze dry. But then she remembered she was wearing white cotton undies - thin white cotton. Thin white cotton that would leave nothing to Dick's imagination.

_Guess I'll just have to suffer a bit, cuz there's no way I'm getting naked… or near naked when Slick Dick is around._

Moving a little further into the wooded area she gingerly started collecting twigs and sticks.  With the sun starting to set, and her clothes damp and sticking to her skin, she was starting to chill.  Plus, she figured, if Dick could be all he-man and Tarzany, she could play  her part and be Jane.

So minutes later, she had twigs and sticks lying on the ground next to a hastily dug fire pit.  She stared at the pit and twigs.  Then stared at them a little bit longer.  She didn't have the slightest clue about how to start a fire, but hey, if boy scouts could do it, so could she… right?

Wrong.

She was cursing up a storm at the edge of the small pit (the small 'fireless' pit) she'd created forty five minutes later when Dick dragged himself out of the sea; a bag in his hand, a bag over his shoulder, and water pouring off of his body.

She did her best not to stare, but when he dropped the bags and stretched, trying to loosen the muscles he'd abused during the swim, Veronica found herself admiring his figure.

_Okay, fine. Dick Casablancas has a nice body. I can admit that. I'm a woman. He's a man. Nothing wrong with my being aware of the obvious._

_()_

Picking up the bags he'd just put down, Dick headed further back onto the beach where Veronica had apparently been busy creating a camping space.

"Dude, what the fuck did you pack in your bag? I mean… SHIT! I almost drowned bringing this thing back here. There better be like beer and salami in there."

"Beer and salami?"

"I like my beer. I like my meat."

"You really are a simple man aren't you Dick?"

"Who the fuck needs complicated? Complicated is a pain. And pain is bad. Simple is painless, ergo good."

"Ergo?"

He flipped her the finger and sat down next to her with a sigh.

Dragging his bag closer to him, he tugged at the zipper and pulled out the first aid kit that he'd pilferred from the plane.  "Okay, let's take a look at that thing on your head." She watched him carefully as he snipped a piece of gauze and opened a bottle of cleanser. As he shifted to his knees for a better angle he heard her mumbling.

"You make it sound so attractive." _No I don't care particularly about Dick's opinion, but no woman wants to hear she's got a 'thing' on her face_.

"Dude! Like you've ever had even a moment's worry about not being beautiful!"

"Your right Dick," She smiled brightly and falsely as he cleaned her wound. "I'm a bundle of self confidence, rolled in a ball of gorgeousness. People swoon at my feet endlessly. I'm constantly kicking them out of my way."

He snorted and turned back to the first aid kit. Picking out the anesteptic he twisted it open. "Ronnie, I am only saying this because there is no one here to witness it but, you **are** aware that you and I are the hottest people in Neptune, right?." He glanced down at her as he applied the anesepetic.  She rolled her eyes.

Sitting back on his haunches, which Veronica really wished he wouldn't do in his wet, form fitting boxers, Dick peered at Ronnie.

"Really? Dude?! You don't know you're like…, hot!?"

"Like I said, kicking them away from me in droves, Dick."

"V, the only reason men DON'T line up at your feet is cause they're afraid you WILL kick them, and not in the knees either." He reached for a super sized band aid and peeled it out of its paper container. "You're fucking scary for being so small."

She smiled, he was full of shit, per usual, but it was sweet of him to try and stroke her ego. She knew she wasn't hideous, but like nearly every woman ever created, she had her insecurities. "I only whip out my mojo on the people who need a little Veronica voodoo Dick. Those are the only ones who need to be scared."

He pushed her hair away from her forehead and cheek and pulling at the backing of the band aid he gently centered it on her wound.

He sat back and admired his work. _She'd probably have a small scar, but, all and all, she was still beautiful._ He cleared his throat and scooped up the crap he'd used to dress her wound. Waggling his eyebrows as he stood up he responded, "Anytime you want to whip you mojo out on me, Mars, I'm ready and willing."

She groaned. "Where's my taser when I need it."

"Dude, I so left that in the plane. I'm NOT dumb."


	3. Boy Scouts

Whoever said sleeping on the beach was beautiful and romantic, was a damn liar.

Veronica curled herself into a tighter ball, her still damp clothes covered in a lovely crust of sand. She glanced at the fire that was supposed to be delivering heat.... Heat that she couldn't feel.  All she was feeling was cold and irritated.

Looking across the flames she took in the sleeping form of Dick Casablancas. He was stretched out, his hands behind his head, his ankles crossed. His branch hanging clothes had dried as the evening progressed and he'd changed into them before they went to bed. He **didn't** look cold.  She blinked her eyes. He didn't look cold at all. The sun would be rising soon, but at this moment, the fire in their little pit was the main source of illumination. And it danced on his skin. Flickering and caressing him in little leaps, little jumps.

_Dick has a really nice body. Surfin' does a body good?_ I giggle inwardly at my own stupidity before I realize that I'm ogling Dick Casablancas' body. My realization comes a second or two too late.

"Wanna touch me Mars?"

Her eyes flew up from Dick's frame to his very wide awake, open eyes. _Please let it be too dark for him to see the blush on my face._ Rolling onto her back she responded, nonchalantly, "I was trying to figure out which part of you I should eat first if we get to Cannibal time here. I'm thinking thigh."

He chuckled, "That's not the piece of meat most women choose to –"

"Okay stop right there! Don't even **think** the rest of that sentence," Veronica shot up to a seated position and turned to face Dick. "If you do, I will just jump to the killing part right now. The rescue party will never blame me… cuz they'll never find the body."

He laughed out loud then sat up and smiled at her. "Without your taser, I think I stand a pretty good chance in a one on one."

She raised a brow. "Do you now?"

His smile dropped just a bit. "I need to pee. Then we can get this party started." He quickly clarified, "The 'making our life easier while we're on Casablancas Island' party."

As he hopped up she argued, "Mars Island. It's Mars Island. I dubbed it that while you were bellboying the luggage back from the plane."

Disappearing into the forest, Dick yelled over his shoulder. "Sorry, Casablancas Island, I planted the Casablancas flag while you were unconscious."

(())

Sighing with utter pleasure, Veronica slipped on the scratchy, but blissfully dry t-shirt and shorts. Stepping out from behind the bush she'd used as a screen, she verbalized her contentment. "I swear I'll never mistreat my dryer again! Dry clothes are heaven."

Dick grinned and tossed another t-shirt in her direction; one that he'd knotted the arm and head holes closed on.

"And this fashion statement is for...?"

"Fruit. There have to be some indigenous fruits here somewhere, your job, mini-Mars is to go find some."

Her stomach gave a quiet growl at the mention of food. "1) Don't think I didn't notice you used the word indigenous and  2) And while I'm out harvesting… you'll be?"

"Making something to do some fishing with."

Silence.

He turned around and picked up a stick he'd collected earlier, looking up he saw Veronica standing in the same spot she'd been in a few seconds ago, a look of confusion on her face. "What?"

"When did you become a boy scout?"

"Dude, I was a boy scout with Logan for about six months when we were nine."

She blinked, "and they taught you how to make a fishing pole out of sand and sticks?"

"Dude, the only thing I learned in the boy scouts was how to short sheet a bed, and how to start a camp fire with sticks. This… other crap? Do I have to remind you **again** , that I've spent my whole life on the water? Anything to do with sand and surf and I probably know something about it. Although, I've never actually had to make a fishing pole before. "

"Okay there are no witnesses here to hear me say it, so… 'wow' I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well hold on to the impressedness for when I actually have a fish on a line. Now, go bring me fruit woman!"

She shook her head and left him to his planning.

It was only as she was finishing up her collection of fruits… bananas and some papaya looking things, and was headed back to the 'camp site' that it truly hit her that she was on a deserted island with Dick. It was the stuff that Lifetime movies were made of, or worse yet… cheap romance novels. They even had the prerequisite, 'he's so hot, if only he wasn't a jerk of immense proportions' angle going on.

She smiled, unfortunately for the writers of this little movie, Veronica Mars and Dick Casablancas had about as much chance of getting together as Rush Limbaugh and Barack Obama did.

As she broke through the brush she saw Dick, digging through her luggage.

She tilted her head to the side and watched him pull things out, rearrange them in the bag, and dig deeper. "I didn't know cross dressing was your thing, Dick, but if you're looking for a nice beach outfit, I don't think anything in my bag is going to fit you."

"Dude, I fucking rock in baby doll dresses, but I'm actually looking for your jewelry."

"The millionaire is robbing the girl from the other side of the tracks? That isn't how the story goes, Dick."

He sighed then addressed her as if he was explaining something to a child. "I need a lure and a hook. Voi-fucking-la, an earring would do great double duty, kinda flashy and with a hook. I could sharpen the tip a bit and attach it to the kick ass pole I've made." He continued to pick through her belongings as he spoke.

"Seriously, Dick, stop pawing my through my clothes!" She dropped the fruit she'd collected onto the sand and moved over to where Dick sat, "Dick!" She grabbed his wrist as he dug deeper into her bag. "If you want an earring I'll get it for you just stop pawing my –"

"Dude, holy shit! You wear these?" Dick held up probably the skimpiest pair of underwear Veronica had ever purchased. They were blue, baby blue, and silky and filmy and definitely not meant for his eyes.

"Casablancas, you have 2 seconds to drop those and 4 seconds to remove the sight of them from your mind."

He jumped up, panties in hand and scoffed at her, "Hell to the no, Dude! I'm, like, keeping these for evidence. Proof that Veronica Mars has a dark side."

She jumped up and took a few steps toward him, eyes narrowed, "You want to see my dark side? I'm going to swim out to that plane, find my taser and fry your nads. Hand them over Dick!"

He lifted his hand up in the air. Daring her to attempt to get the embarrassing article of clothing from him.

She knew it was stupid, she knew it even before she did it, but she couldn't stop herself, something inside of her was absolutely mortified to have Dick holding her…well… her seduction underwear. So she charged him. Realistically her chances of taking him down – sans taser – were slim to none, but… he was holding her underwear!

Dick saw the attack coming and took off down the beach, blue underwear held high like a flag in his hand.

"Dick! If you value your life!"

She chased after him, cursing the grains of sand that shifted beneath her feet with each step. Her only hope was if he… YES!

As she thought it, Dick misjudged the distance between his feet and a piece of driftwood, and he fell like a piece of well toned meat to the sand.

She picked up her speed, and dove at him just as he started to get up. "Oh no you don't!" All one hundred of her pounds plowed into him; normally not enough weight to faze him, but he was already off balance, so he fell back down, this time with Veronica directly on top of him.

She straddled his hips, vowing, as she breathed heavily, to go to the gym more often when she got back to Neptune. "Hand them over Dick."

She eyed his panty filled hand - the one that was stretched way above his head in the sand - while his other hand had somehow corralled one of her wrists, effectively keeping her as far away from the gauzy undies as possible.

Digging her knees into the sand a bit, she considered the logistics of diving forward to grab the underwear. As she dug in, her hips flared, flattening her body against his just a bit.

And then she felt it.

Dick's… Dick's… well… **it** moved. And as soon as **it** moved, she froze. She froze and re evaluated the situation she was in. The physical situation she was in. She was straddling Dick Casablancas' hips and he was half naked, wearing a pair of low riding shorts, and she was wearing a tshirt and shorts. Their skin touched at their waists, and at their thighs. And then there was his grip on her wrist. Holding her in place.

Assessment done, she dared to look him in the face.

()

_Funny how a funny situation can become serious in the blink of an eye_. He'd only taken off with the underwear because he'd realized that Veronica was embarrassed by them. She didn't embarrass easily. So he'd taken off; effortlessly out distancing her until that stupid piece of wood jumped in front of him. And then she was on top of him and his whole focus changed.

He was suddenly aware of how light she was, of how her hips felt against his, of how sexy she was – slightly out of breath – leaning over him. And then she shifted, and 'he' shifted, and….

_Dude this so is not happening. Ever._

He used his muscles and the element of surprise to flip them over; his body weight pressing against her center. His eyes took in the look of surprise on her face. _She's even fucking cute when she's surprised. Shit! Rich guy kryptonite_.

Bringing his arm down, he handed her the blue, silky, underwear and hopped up off of her, walking way without a word.


	4. Banana?

Veronica had thought that wet sand, stuck between clothes and skin – abrasive and cold -  was the epitome of discomfort. She'd thought _that_ was the epitome of discomfort right up until she had to spend a day covered in embarrassment over having been in Dick's arms. _In his arms and kind of not disliking the feeling._

_Shit_.

She looked at him as he returned the small, descaled fish to the flames. _I can do this, I can be get past this. So I almost, sort of, kind of kissed Dick Casablancas, I mean, it's not the end of the world. Only… I ALMOST SORT OF KINDA KISSED DICK CASABLANCAS!_

Taking a quick puff of breath, "Banana?"

Dick lifted his head at the sound of Veronica's voice speaking the first word that either of them had uttered in the past three or four hours.

"Huh?"

"Banana. Do you want one?" She held a yellow green banana out to him, her eyes focusing on everything, anything other than his face… his eyes.

_I almost kissed him!_

_I almost kissed her!_

"Uh, sure. Thanks. I'll grab it in a second."

She lowered the banana to the sand. _Well that went well…._ _Not_.

Dick focused on the fish; slowly turning the stick that the fish was skewered to so that the fish broiled evenly.

_Hmmpf. Fish on a stick. Fish stick! Ha_! He opened his mouth to share his finding, when he remembered they weren't talking to one another. _All because I can't control my fucking cock._

Maneuvering the two small fish off of their skewer, he placed them on the large leaves they were using as 'plates'.

He spoke, "They're probably a little hot, might want to give them a few minutes to cool." He leaned forward and picked up the banana she'd given to him. _Shit. This was dumb. Really dumb. He needed to man up… and soon._

"Thanks _." Okay, really this is just stupid. We're both adults. I didn't attack him or anything. Well… I sort of did, but.…_

"So I think I'm going to need your help getting the tenting stuff up."

_He's 'talking to me'._ She offered a too chipper response. "Definitely. After we're done eating?"

"Yeah, sure. Umm good banana." _Shit_.

"Good fish." _Uh, duh_.

They ate the rest of their 'meal' in silence, but at least this was companionable silence. An 'okay, I can do this, we can do this... I'll just pretend it never happened' kind of silence.

(())

"Are you sure we're doing this the right way?"

"Nope."

Veronica glared at Dick's back. "Not comforting. Not at all comforting."

He chuckled and moved to the fourth corner of their makeshift tent, stick and log in hand. "Hold it straight." He ordered as he knelt and worked the fabric of the parachute around the stick.

She strained against the tall stick they were using as the center post of their tent and growled, "How'd I end up being pole holder girl?"

He couldn't stop himself, "Every woman I've met needs practice with the pole."

"That was almost funny."

"No almost about it dude, it WAS funny…. And true."

Veronica bit her lip. _I'm not getting into a debate with Dick about women's – my - ability to work with a pole. I sooooo am not having that conversation._

Using the log to hammer the stick further into the sand, Dick sat back on his haunches and surveyed the tent. It would hold for now, tomorrow he would try and find some heavy rocks to put along the edges for more support, but for now, this would do. Turning around, he glanced at Ronnie, she was looking up at the top of the center pole, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face with a sigh.

Something in his gut turned. She was a beautiful woman, even wearing just a t-shirt and shorts, and with her hair up in a haphazard bun. It was ridiculous how beautiful she was. And it was also ridiculous how utterly wrong it was for him to be looking at her the way he was. He cleared his throat, "So, yeah, dude, I'm going to get some more wood for the pit."

As he scampered out of the tent Veronica looked after him with a scowl. "I take it I can let go of the pole?"

At the sound of his laughter, she dropped her hands and shook out her arms. She'd never been camping, but if this was what it was like, she never, ever, wanted to do it again. It was hard work. And it put people and things that should never be close to one another… close to one another. Things like Casablancas' and Mars'. She looked around the small space that would be their sleeping quarters and groaned... wayyyyyyyyy too close.

Crawling out of the tent, she grabbed their baggage and dragged it into the tent. She briefly considered using the bags as a divider, but then she realized that would be childish… and she was an adult woman. _Damnit_.

(())

"Dude, I've got more wood than we could use in a week!" Dick dropped his fourth pile of kindling on the ground next to the pit and stretched. Opening his eyes, he found Veronica staring at him with one eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"Nothing."

He paused then bit the bullet. Bending down to throw some sticks into the fire, he teased "Ron, get your mind out of the gutter, not everything is about sex."

"ME!? My mind!?"

"Dude, I was making an innocent statement about wood and you took it to the 'bad place'."

"Dick, you've never made an innocent statement about anything before in your life! To you, everything is all about sex."

And then it hit her like a bat; not only was she embarrassed about having jumped Dick's bones, she was pissed that he hadn't taken advantage of her 'jump'. Dick went through women like they were candy, but when she was there… _right there_ … NOTHING! She glanced down at her chest surreptitiously, she knew the girls weren't huge, but they were still breasts. She was still a woman. _What the hell? Why hadn't she had to fight Dick - Dick of all people- off?!_

"… so yeah, probably 93% of the time if my calculations are right. This was one of the remaining 7% where I was innocent." He lifted his eyes from the now healthy fire and found Veronica staring at him. Glancing down at his chest to see if he had leaves stuck to him, he ran his hand over his face, checking for schmuck before he gave in and asked, "What?"

Veronica tore her eyes from him. _You don't want Dick wanting you. Jumping you. Responding to your 'bone jumping'. Although,_ she flushed lightly _, he_ _ **had**_ _responded to the jump. She frowned, he just hadn't taken advantage of the opportunity. Why the hell_ "didn't you take advantage of me when you had the chance?"

_And, oh fuck, I just said that out loud._

Dick paled, then flushed, then sputtered, "I…, but I…, you don't…? Dude, what the fuck?! Are you kidding me?"

Veronica blinked a few times. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. As a matter of fact, I said nothing. Nothing. Do you want another banana?"

"Dude! I so fucking don't get how women think! I mean… fuck!"

"What, you're anti bananas?" She asked mock-innocently.

"Okay, no, now seriously, Ronnie, if I had… if we had…" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "you would have cut off my balls in my sleep, right?"

"I guess it depends on how good you were." _There must have been something in that fish… do they make truth serum out of fish?_

Dick stared at Veronica, a Veronica who seemed determined drive him insane. But then, that's what she always did. She captured a man, reeled him in with her magical, blonde, petite, beautiful bait, and then when she had him - balls out, heart in hand - she twisted him around until he broke.

He'd seen it happen.

More than once.

Bending down, he crawled into the tent, throwing over his shoulder. "You'd break me Mars."


	5. Chapter 5

We were rescued, with very little fanfare, the morning following our little blow up. The little black box's beacon apparently worked, and once people realized we were missing… and how we were missing… the coast guard did what they do, and followed the signal to our little tent and our ever present fire.

Once they rescued us, shuttling us aboard their speedy, utilitarian boat, they gave us baby sized bottles of water and little packets of crackers – not a gourmet feast, but honestly, some of the best food I'd ever tasted.

Also of the good? Being around other people. To have more than my own thoughts jabbing at me. Thoughts that revolved around me 'breaking' Dick.

And I had all kinds of thoughts that revolved around that theme. Me literally grabbing him and kung fu-ing his ass into next year. Me leaving him crying in some corner while he mumbled about his emotional fragility due to my being rich guy kryptonite…. But the version of thoughts that most ran through my head around this little theme? Me sexing Dick Casablancas up and down.

What. The. Fuck!? I mean, objectively, he was cute. He even fell into 'hot'. But he was also vapid, and self-centered, and dumb.

Only, damnit! He wasn't vapid, self-centered and dumb. It turns out he's high energy… that he cares about those who are in his inner circle, and, well… he's… smart-ish. He's definitely smarter than I ever gave him credit for. He knows what he needs to know; what he wants to know. Like how to make a damn fishing pole out of a stick, string and an earring. He also knew how to put up a shelter for us. And he knew how to fly (okay, well, the jury was still out on that one – we **did** crash). But, did 'I' know how to do _any_ of those things?

No.

So, yeah. Dick was confusing me.

Ha! There's a phrase I never thought I'd say. Casablancas having the ability to confuse anyone!

I watched him from beneath my eyelashes as we were transported to the nearest rescue center. He was talking to the coastguard guys, describing the plane crash, and he was animated, laughing… using his hands as he spoke.

And my stomach fluttered.

_Shit_. I didn't need a man in my life now. I was trying to change my habit of falling for all the wrong men. Duncan – too scared. Logan – too scarred. Piz – too insipid. Erik – too selfish. Patric – too perfect. Yet, here I was, contemplating at least a one night stand with, arguably, the worst match/type I could possibly pair up with.

My mind was a whirlwind of crash talk and tiredness when Dick and I were finally set free later that afternoon. He'd continued his 'deeper than you think' behavior by, sometime during the questioning, renting hotel rooms for us on the main island (apparently, we had crashed fairly close to Hawaii).

()

We drove to the hotel in silence.

We checked in to the hotel in silence.

We rode the hotel elevator in silence.

We parted ways, me to room 515, him to room 517, in silence.

And then, with relief, I fell onto the softest bed I'd ever touched, and fell asleep.

The sun was streaming into my hotel room at 7 the next morning and my - now charged - cell phone was ringing its head off.

Grabbing it blindly, I flipped it on.

"Hello?"

"Okay, V, you are never ever to leave Neptune again without giving me a full and complete itinerary of your plans. Who you're going with, where, what route. Got me?"

"Papa bear! You do care!"

Wallace chuckled. "Are you alright?"

"Other than a few mosquito bites and a desire to never eat another banana again in my life? I'm swell."

"Okay then back to scolding. What the what with you traveling with Dick?!"

"He hired me."

Wallace paused and Veronica addressed the joke hanging in the air. "For a case, not for bow chicky bow wow."

"Just checking."

"Dick is kind of cute though, right?" The question was out of her lips before she could stop it.  She slapped her hand over her mouth.

"The appendage or Casablancas?" And before I could respond he jumped back in to the conversation, "Wait, no. Never mind. My answer to that question, no matter how you meant it, is and always shall be: 'no'." He waited a beat then asked, "Did something happen while you two were stranded?"

Damn intuitive man. "Not really."

Wallace groaned. "Woman! What is it with you and 09ers? How do you keep lassoing them and Why?! For god's sake, why?!"

"I didn't mention lassoing. There was no lassoing."

"I can hear it in your voice."

Veronica sat up. "Really…no lassoes, ropes, or scarves of any kind have been used."

"Yet?"

She groaned. "Wallace?"

"Veronica?"

"Am I too hard on men?"

"Hell yes."

"A little hesitation before answering that question would have been nice."

"Sorry. But if it helps any, we all get 'why' you're too hard on men. And… you're equally hard on women. You're hard on people. It's part of your Mars charm."

"So… you think I should be… softer?"

"On the bad guys? No. On potential dates? Maybe. Or not soft… maybe more open."

"Being open sucks. Being open means being dumped… or seeing Kendall standing half naked behind your man."

"True. But being open also means taking a chance…"

"You do recall where taking a chance has landed me in the past?"

"In bad bad places." Wallace agreed, "But, there was some good in there too, right? I mean," he coughed, "Logan wasn't all bad, all the time, was he?"

"Not all the time, just most of the time…. And Wallace Fennel, why aren't you trying to talk me out of my stupidity?"

"Do I like Casablancas? No. Do I like you? Yes. Do I want you to be happy? Yes. Even if it means you spending time with Dick? Yes."

"He's really not that bad you know. He's the reason I didn't drown when the plane crashed. And he's the reason I'm not an emaciated scarecrow…. He built us a tent thingy. And, when he's away from the alcohol? He's kind of funny."

"Damn girl. You really do have a little crush on him, don't you?"

"We're not calling it a crush; we're calling it a 'thing'… I have a stupid, little, 'thing' for him. One that I'm almost positive that, if I ignore it, it will go away."

"Uh huh. Does he know you have a thing for him?"

"No. Yes. No. He said I'd break him."

Silence.

"Wallace?"

"Break him how?"

"I don't know. Emotionally? Physically?"

"We really have entered a TMI zone here. Maybe you should be talking to Mac about this 'thing' thing, and the 'breakage' stuff."

Veronica lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. "I bet it's just one of those things. One of those stranded on an island things…. You know one of those things where, in the real world, it means nothing. It fades to nothing. The thing becomes 'nothing'."

"Okay, I hope that whole sentence made sense to you, cuz…. I'm confused."

"It did make sense. And I'm probably right. A day or two back in the real world and I'll be back to thinking of Dick as a dork." She sat up again. "Thanks Fennel you rock."

"Erh, you're right, I do. Call me when you get back to Neptune."

"Will do daddio. Bye!"

"Bye V."

I ran down to the hotel gift shop and bought some necessities…. Toothpaste, fresh t shirt, shorts, flip flops, and a set of underwear.

When I made it back to my room I didn't pause, I grabbed my cell, scrolled through the numbers until I hit 'D'. Quickly tapping in a message, I pressed 'send' before I could think about it.

(())

Dick pulled the sheet up over his head trying his hardest to dive back into the dream that his phone was trying its hardest to pull him out of.

Finally giving in to the incessant buzzing of the phone, "Shit! Dude! WTF! I'm sleeping!" He sat up and picked up the damn phone.

As he moved to turn the phone off, he froze. _Veronica. Veronica Mars_. He flipped the phone open and read the text.

_Dinner. 730pm. As a thank you. Mars._

And suddenly, he was wide awake. Wide, fucking awake.

They hadn't said a word to each other in over 24 hours. And now she was … asking him to dinner?

He seriously didn't understand women.

Well, okay, he understood their bodies, but their minds? That was a shitload of another problem.

In the last year or two, He and Veronica had built a tenuous friendship with one another. A friendship built on barbs and snark and shit like that.

And then they ended up on the island, in that situation that they ended up in… all close and, him all aroused and shit, and he did the right thing. He did the thing that a not horny 22 year old man would do. He ran away, hands up in the air, and he DID NOT TOUCH. Ronnie was off limits in so many ways it was ridiculous. So he did the right thing.

He didn't jump her on the beach.... And somehow his doing the right thing still meant that she was pissed at him.

So he explained to her why he didn't jump her and she was still all pissed and shit at him.

_What the fuck goes on in women's minds?_

Dick stared at his phone for a second before tapping out a response on his phone.  _Screw what women are thinking… what am I thinking?_

_()_

Veronica climbed out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her hair, and one around her body, and padded into the main room of the hotel. She circled around to the far side of the bed where she'd left her phone and stared at the lit up face.

She picked up the phone and flipped it open.

_Dinner. 730pm. I'll pick you up._

She dropped the phone back on the bed, and smiled softly to herself.


	6. Big Waves

Putting on the _outfit_ she'd purchased from the gift shop, Veronica put her still wet hair up into a ponytail and headed to the door. She stopped short at the sight of an envelope that had apparently been slipped under the door.

Picking it up, she flipped it open and nearly dropped it when she saw that it contained 10 crisp $100 bills.

Pulling out the cash she saw a small note also lay inside of the envelope. In chicken scratch that would make a doctor proud, she read the simple sentence. 'kinda think I owe you a new outfit. ~Dick'

$1000 for a new outfit? She could start a new wardrobe for that amount of money. Pushing aside the slight… slight guilt she felt about taking Dick's money, she reminded herself that this was to have been an all expenses paid trip, and with a smile, she slipped out of her room, out of the hotel, and headed into the Hawaii heat.

(())

He paced outside of her door, something he had been doing for the past five minutes. Pacing and talking to himself.

A maid and a couple of guests had passed him by at a distance, afraid that his apparent insanity was contagious.

"Dick, dude, you're: Dick Casablancas; women don't scare you! You're good looking – very good looking; you have money – a shitload of money. You're a catch. And dude, it's not like this is that big of a deal! It's a fucking meal. Dinner with a … friend. A friend whose life you kinda saved."

He stopped pacing and faced her door.

And then he started pacing again.

"A fucking friend who suddenly makes Big Rick stand at attention." He glanced down at his pants and sighed with relief. Big Rick was currently under control. _Maybe… maybe the reason he'd reacted the way he had on the beach really wasn't in response to Mars? Maybe… it was a response to the gauzy, filmy scrap of blue undies he'd found in her luggage. Sexy underwear was sexy underwear! He'd probably just had a reaction to the sheer lacy shit!_ Raising his hand and knocking on Veronica's door he smiled, ' _yeah, that's it. I reacted because of the underwear!'_

The hotel door swung open to reveal Veronica Mars… and Dick's happiness faltered, ' _or… not.'_

She was wearing some sort of strapless dress, dusty blue, that stopped mid thigh, and for being a short woman, her legs, in this dress, seemed to go on forever. Her blue eyes were extra blue tonight and her hair fell to her shoulders in some sort of silky blonde halo… and shit, yeah, it definitely wasn't the underwear that had turned him on on the beach..., it was all Mars.

"Hi." Veronica was the first to speak.

At his continued silence she looked down at her outfit, making certain everything was in place before looking back up at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Shit yeah, something's wrong. You look hot." Depression and confusion warred for control of his tone.

Her smile brightened, "Uhm, 'sorry'?" She let her eyes take in his black linen slacks and jacket, and his blue shirt. "You look 'nice' too." Hot would have been the right word, but Hot was also the wrong word, it was the word that would take her to places she wasn't ready to go to. Yet.

Dick shrugged his shoulders and straightened his jacket. "I do, don't I?"

_Now that was the Dick she knew._

"Ready?"

"Ready."

()

Good things about Dinner with Dick

1) he made her laugh.

2) he appreciated life and lived every moment to the fullest.

3) he wasn't rock dumb. If that hadn't been proven by his Tarzan/Boy-scout stint on their deserted island, it was proved through his dinner conversation. He actually knew stuff.

Bad things about Dinner with Dick

1) he made her laugh.

2) he appreciated life and lived every moment to the fullest.

3) he wasn't rock dumb. If that hadn't been proven by his Tarzan/Boy-scout stint on their deserted island, it was proved through his dinner conversation. He actually knew stuff.

They were walking down along a sidewalk after dinner, taking in the smells and sights of paradise when Veronica spoke, "So, why do you act so dumb?" The words, tactless and uncensored, were out of her mouth without her permission.

He laughed, "I don't act dumb."

"So the dumbness is real and the smartness is an act?"

"I…," he slid his hand to the middle of her back and stepped behind her as they passed another couple, and oddly enough, neither of them made mention of the fact that he didn't remove his hand after the sidewalk had opened up. "I just don't get the stress everyone puts themselves under. I mean, my dad was so fucked up over his business and making money that he was never home. And when he was home, it was always with the new wife du jour, because he couldn't make a relationship stick to save his life. Including his relationship with Beaver and me."

Dick paused and nodded h is head at the ice cream shop on their right. Veronica grinned. As if she'd ever say no to ice cream. As they headed down the path that led to the shop Dick continued. "Why the fuck do people do it? Why do they get all wound up about shit - NOT important shit - and let themselves get eaten alive by it? I choose not to be caught up in, in, all of the shit."

"Shit being politics, school, the environment, etc."

"Shit being anything that takes me way from the pleasure. Surfing, the water, power of the waves, girls, booze." He held the door of the ice cream shop open for her. "Although, yeah, the booze, not as good as it use to be."

As they stood in line in the small shop, Veronica turned to face him, moving backwards as the line slowly dissipated. "But the whole reason we're here; I mean here in Hawaii, is so you can start up a new business. Isn't that you joining the," she lowered her voice, "Shit?"

"Could be, I guess, but I don't know. I mean, Dude, I love surfing. And I just kinda think it would be a cool job. A job I could rock. I job I would like."

She stared at him intrigued for the 100th time that night by his mind. Yeah..., by his mind; although, his eyes and his jaw were pretty intriguing too. She backed up when he took a step forward…. "I –" her rear hit the display case and she turned around, the child in her awakened, "Ooooh our turn!"

()

The ice cream, delicious though it was, was a bad idea. Have you ever eaten ice cream with someone you're interested in? Watching their tongue peek out from between their lips, lapping lightly at the delicacy? The look of pleasure on their face?  Ice cream was a fucking aphrodisiac. Dick was certain of that fact after 30 seconds of watching Veronica eat her cone.

One minute in, and he was trying to find a way to walk with her without giving away his arousal.

Awkward anyone? _Yeah, I was just watching you lick that cone and I was kinda wondering, what it would feel like to have your tongue lapping at me that way._ No biggie right? He glanced down at the front of his pants and willed Big Rick to behave for 10 minutes more. Ten minutes and they'd be back at the hotel. And she would be in her room and he would be in his room and then… then he and Big Rick could go fucking wild.

And he almost made it.

They were in the hotel elevator when a couple joined them. And then another couple, and then a family of four. The addition of people required the shuffling of bodies and polite, excuse me's, friendly nods, ignoring the fact that your body was touching someone else's body. Only, all that shuffling and politeness led to him standing behind Veronica. With her back pressed against his chest. And his arm, for spaces sake, wrapped lightly around her waist.

And did he mention that he was taller than her? He had a view, a great view, from his height vantage that showed her cleavage in new and non-ignorable ways.

And SHIT her back was against his chest… and other parts of his body; parts of his body that had NO intention of listening to his inner pleas to be good.

()

Veronica held her breath as more and more people trundled into the elevator and she had to step closer and closer to Dick. Soon it was so crowded that his arm was around her, and his hand was at her waist. And he was hard…

 **IT** was hard.

Again.

So instead of a few hours, or a few days, or whatever length of time she had hoped to have to prove that her interest in him was just an aberration – she had seconds, maybe minutes.

Seconds to decide if she wanted to take the step they had shied away from on the island. Seconds to decide if she wanted him… even just for a moment.

Their floor came first and they shifted through their elevator mates, working to the front of the cabin and stepping out in to the space provided by the hall.

It was a silent walk to their rooms. And the silence was disconcerting, because Veronica and Dick weren't people who did silence. She did snark. He did jokes.

But there was none of that now.

Now there was just a great big chasm of silence.

A chasm of silence that continued right up until they reached Veronica's door.

Sliding the card into the lock she pushed the door open, and with a silent, deep breath, she turned around to face him, her eyes level with his chest. "Think carefully before you answer Casablancas.... Do you want to come in?"

And it was all there again; just like it had been on the island, only this time it was worse. It was real. It wasn't an island hidden away from reality.

The same choice was staring him in the face; the choice of going where his body and his senses were leading him or running away like a chicken shit… again.

_Well fuck that. He rode the waves. He rode the big waves. He wasn't afraid!_

_Much._

Veronica's eyes slid up from his chest to his face, and she read when he made his decision, and she felt frisson of heat crawl through her body. Stepping back into the room, she held the door open and let him enter.


	7. Touched

_Veronica's eyes had slid up from his chest to his face, and she read when he made his decision, and she felt frisson of heat crawl through her body. Stepping back into the room, she held the door open and let him enter._

 

* * *

 

Stretching slowly, her body aching in the most delicious way, Veronica smiled at the feel of the warm body pressed against her back.

If waking up in Dick's arms was surreal, falling asleep in his arms was had been amazing.

She'd slept with a few men. Not enough to earn the title 'whore', but definitely enough to say she'd 'been around'. And she could say, unequivocally that Dick had earned HIS reputation. And no, she wasn't referring to his 'dumb' reputation. She was referring to his bedroom reputation; his 'I can fuck like a pro' reputation.

From her experiences last night, his reputation was….well deserved.

Veronica shifted again and heard Dick mumble something sleepily in her ear. Hs arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer in his sleep; his breath warm and steady against her cheek.

She'd always assumed that he'd be a selfish lover…. And yes… she'd thought about it in the past… a bit… not seriously, but in passing… he was a handsome man! And he did have that damn reputation….

She'd bet _every_ woman he came in contact with wondered, at least in passing….

Anyway, she'd always assumed that he'd be a selfish lover… working to get himself off first and, well if the girl got off too… good for her.

But that was nowhere near the truth. Dick… Dick was giving. Really really givng.

Like a 3-1 count giving.

Hands, mouth… other parts…. Allllllll giving.

He was good. Weak in the knees, butterflies in the stomach… good.

She snuggled lower in his arms, closed her eyes, and fell back into a satiated sleep.

Memories of last night made Dick smile as he woke up. He liked sex. He really liked sex. It was a tossup whether he liked surfing or 'sexing' more.

At least, it was normally a tossup. Last night the coin had definitely landed in favor of Sex… in favor of sex with Veronica.

Opening his eyes, he looked down at the sleeping Veronica. She, at sometime during the night, had moved so that she was lying with her head on his chest; her hand curved on his abs.

Lifting his hand he pushed the small wisps of hair that were falling across her cheek, and he breathed deeply.

The physical world was something he'd always understood. Actions spoke to him loudly. He understood the ocean because he rode her, swam in her. He understood the beach because he walked on her, spent day and night with her.

He understood women when he touched them… when he breathed them. Tasted them.

And fuck it; he'd finally tasted Veronica Mars.

She was beautiful… inside and out.

_The first few moments of being alone together in Mars' hotel room were – awkward._

_Dick watched Veronica drop her purse on the desk and step out of her shoes while he… well, he just stood in front of the closed door, his manhood wilting at the sudden onslaught of reality ._

_Veronica, per usual, was the first to break the silence. Turning away from the desk she res she did what she did best. She researched._

" _So how does this normally work for you? Lights on? Lights off?" She headed to the bedside table. "Music?" She touched the radio alarm clock looking for the right button. "What kind of music is 'bowchicky bow bow' music for Dick?"_

' _Seriously man, what is wrong with you? Willing, beautiful, slightly dangerous woman in front of you and you're standing still like a dork! Do the fuck something!'_

_His slightly self-abusive pep talk reminded him that 'doing' was indeed what he needed to do. H wasn't a thinker. He was an acter. He got from point A- Z by moving, touching, feeling. He wasn't a mull it over kind of person. Mulling had never gotten him anywhere – well, nowhere except for drunk._

_Taking the five steps necessary to place him at Veronica's side, he touched her. He simply touched her arm… but it was all he – all they – needed. It was like finally being plugged in to an electrical outlet. His mind cleared and his Veronica focused inhibitions left him._

_Sliding his hand down Veronica's arm he let himself take in the feel of her skin. Warm, silken, cream; he wracked his brain to recall anything he'd ever touched that felt as soft… smooth… he couldn't think of anything._

_His hand stopped at her hand, his fingers playing with her fingers. It was simple… just a small action… but it was inquisitive; learning a tiny piece of her. It was intimate._

_Her back was against his chest, her hand in his, while her other hand played, restlessly, fruitlessly, with the buttons of the radio._

_And they were quiet once again._

_Only this time, this time, there was a heat that surrounded them. A palpable heat._

_Veronica – incapable of staying quiet for long – hitched a breath and offered, lightly, "If that's your idea of a hand job, you're totally doing it wrong."_

_He chuckled against her, "Maybe I'll let you show me the right way a little later."_

" _Lucky, lucky meee –" she lost her voice when his lips pressed against the tip of her ear; his teeth nipping along the sensitive skin there._

Within seconds she found herself turned around in his arms, his head still bent to her neck he whispered a teasing, "Shut up Ronnie."

Slipping her hands up to his shoulders she murmured, "Shutting up."

He lifted a hand to her chin, tilting her head up, blue eyes met blue.

_I can't believe I'm about to kiss Veronica Mars._

_I can't believe I'm about to kiss Dick Casablancas._

_And then they just gave in; gave in to the desire that had been eating at them for the past three days._

_Their lips touched, tentatively at first then, more intensely… surprised at the softness, the sweetness, the pleasure found in the other._

_The intensity turned into a fire. Dick moved his hand to the side of Veronica's dress and deftly unzipped her. With a small shake of her frame it dropped to the floor, revealing a sheer strapless bra with matching boy shorts… in a color very similar to the ones he'd stolen from her on their island._

_Seeing them on her was considerably better than seeing them in her luggage. Although, it occurred to him, she'd probably look infinitely better out of them._

_Backing her against the bed he followed her on to the mattress one knee between her legs as she slipped up along the bed covers. And then he was lying on her, once again – only this time he wasn't going to run away. He was going to stay…. He was going to get closer._

" _Doing okay?" he asked as she shifted beneath him, changing the way her body weighed his frame._

" _Me? Oh, I'm doing swell. Although, I have kind of noticed a disturbing disparity in the amount of clothing I'm wearing in comparison to the amount of clothing you're wearing."_

" _So you're saying you want me naked?" He was smirking down at her, his weight resting on his elbows and forearms._

_She blew out a puff of air. "Are you really going to make me say it?"_

" _I think I have to hear it."_

_She closed her eyes and with mock difficulty stated, "Dick Casablancas, if you want me, you better get naked for me."_

_She opened her eyes and smiled up at him._

" _That's as good as I'm going to get from you, isn't it?"_

_She nodded her head in confirmation._

_Fortunately for her, Dick wasn't shy. And he DID want her. Climbing off of the bed he stood up and began to strip._

_Veronica lay on her back, perched on her elbows and watched him._

_Shoes first, then jacket, then he worked the buttons of his shirt until it was lying open and he was able to shrug it off of his shoulders._

_He winked at her and moved his hands to his pants, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping them._

_Left standing in just his boxers, Dick smirked at Veronica again. "Just one piece left."_

_She tried not to blush, but she failed. "Just… take them off and get over here." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth from dropping open as Dick removed his boxers._

" _Impressed?" He teased as he moved back to the bed and back up along her frame._

_And for once Veronica didn't have a witty response. Dick **was** impressive. All of him. _

_Gathering her wits around her for what would prove to be the last time that night, she lay all the way back on the bed and slipped a hand around Dick's neck, drawing him nearer. "Shut up and kiss me."_

_Everything should be more awkward. She knew that._

_His touch should feel foreign – unwanted. But it wasn't. It felt… you know that feeling you get when you put on your favorite outfit; right fit, right texture, perfect feel good hue? The one that makes you feel both, 'comfortable' and 'confident' – knowing that you're not only feeling good, but looking good?_

_Dick, being with Dick, was like that outfit._

_And yes, she realized it was slightly weird to compare her soon to be lover, ex-school chum – to an outfit, but… damnit, he felt good! From the touch of his skin beneath her hands, to the grace of his fingers along her back as he undid the clasps of her bra. He felt good._

_And he didn't waste his time. As soon as her breasts were freed, Dick lowered his head until his lips could touch a nipple, his tongue darting out, and sending sensation racing through her nerves._

_She squirmed beneath his attentive lips, one hand in his hair the other on his shoulder._

_On his part, Dick was a happy, happy man. He was touching Veronica. A small part of his brain, the little section in the corner that was still working, recalled the fantasies his pubescent self had created of kissing, touching the petite Veronica Mars._

_He'd envisioned feeling her breasts, figuring out what it was the older boys and girls did when they got together. Of course, if he was honest, in his dreams, her breasts had been bigger; in reality, they were small – palmfuls._

_But they were perfect palmfuls. The question of why he'd ever chased big boobs ran through his brain then disappeared as he concentrated on the sounds, the murmurs of pleasure Veronica was emitting._

_Shifting slightly, he let his left hand pass over the skin of her ribcage, over her abdomen, down to the edge of her panties._

" _Are these the same ones…?"_

_She shook her head slightly, focused on the feelings running through her body, barely aware of his words._

" _How many of them do you own?"_

' _Seriously? He wanted to talk about her underwear? Now?' "—bought them today. Now stop talking."_

_He grinned. She'd bought underwear - for 'maybe'. For him._

_Edging his fingers along the elastic at the top of the skimpy, barely there panties. He let his hand slide under the cloth, cupping her warmth._

_And she was warm. Warm and slick._

_He moved his mouth to the breast he'd been neglecting and she mewled, with frustration, with pleasure._

_His fingers began to explore her, playing along the lips of her pussy, and then along the wet flesh just inside of those lips. Her lips moved, trying to direct his touch. He listened, but he didn't obey. He'd always been bad at following orders… and Mars was too damn good at getting what she wanted; when she wanted it._

_Dipping a digit into her center, he felt her fingers dig into his shoulder._

_He created a slow steady tempo, letting her body loosen and heat under his touch. He curved his hand and quickly found the underside of the small dot of nerves. Her muscles tightened._

_Withdrawing his finger for half a second he introduced a second finger to her entrance. She hissed slightly then moaned._

_Her hand had left his hair was now on his bicep, tracing down his arm, trying to become involved in what was happening between her legs; trying to touch the spot that he was so studiously avoiding._

" _Nuh uh. No touching Ronnie!"_

_She ignored him and worked to get her hand beneath the elastic of her panties._

_Dick stopped the pace he'd set with his fingers, holding them still inside of her. He smirked when her eyes flew open and she groaned._

" _Dick, what the fuck!"_

" _No touching," he whispered._

_She briefly considered trying to work to get herself off, but Dick changed her mind when he stretched up and softly pressed his lips against hers. "Be good, and I promise… you'll get off."_

_She gave a frustrated moan and lifted her hand, wrapping her fingers around his forearm._

_He kissed her again, and added, wickedly, quietly, "eventually."_

_She closed her eyes. "I hate you."_

" _Right now Ronnie? I'm totally cool with that."_

_He began to massage her center again, moving in a way that was intended to bring her to edge._

_He watched her as she heated up from the inside out; her skin flushed; nipples hard, tight and rosy. Her tongue darted out and licked at her lips and he was hit with a sudden vision of that same pink tongue playing along his cock. He groaned and picked up the speed of his strokes._

_Her eyes shot open as the heel of his hand touched her clit. Her fingers tightened their grasp on his arm, leaving scars._

_He turned his fingers in her again, and let his thumb tap her clit. His eyes never leaving hers. He got lost in her ocean of blue; swimming happily._

_Rubbing his thumb across her clit with slow, concentrated, circular strokes, he listened to her breathing change, the deep breaths becoming shallow gasps. Her thighs squeezed around his hand as she tried to keep the sensation, the feeling, of him 'there'. Just. Right. There._

_His thumb stopped circling and he tapped her clit once… twice. And she came._

_Veronica Mars came for him._

_It was the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen._


	8. Teflon Marshmallows

"Coffee?"

She glared at him.

Chuckling he sat down next to her and waved the cup in front of her. "Carmel. Latte. Extra whip on top."

"Seriously, when I get out of this bed, I'm going to waddle after you and when I catch you, I'm going to sit on you."

Dick laughed. "... like the 20 lbs you've gained are enough to hold me down."

"19 pounds. It's 19 pounds! And did I mention the taser, I'll be waddling after you with my taser. And by the way, where the hell did you hide my taser!"

Dick leaned to the side and kissed Veronica's cheek. "Not tellin'. And, Dude, do you really think I'd do that to you?" He held the coffee back out to her, "One) you're scarey," he paused and amended, "Scarier than normal when you're caffeinated, and two) I know the caffeine isn't good for little High Five." He waved the cup in front of her, "It's decaf Babe."

Veronica's eyes welled up, "It's decaf?"

"It's decaf."

Grabbing on to the cup as if it were a life preserver, Veronica lifted it to her nose and inhaled the aroma. "I know you're just a poor, fake, substitute for the caffeine riddled version, but you smell so good, I think I love you."

Dick leaned back against the headboard and watched his very pregnant girlfriend bask in the aroma, and then the taste, of her favorite beverage; a treat she hadn't had in nearly half a year, not since they found out they were pregnant. When she took a second sip and made her 'sex is good' face, he chuckled, "that good huh?"

"Oh you have noooo idea." She closed her eyes and sunk a little lower against her pile of pillows, "Oh, and don't think I missed your use of 'Hang Five'; we are not, I reiterate, NOT naming any child of ours 'Hang Five'."

"Ron..."

"Richard."

His first name. She'd whipped out his full first name. She only did that when she was tired. Or when she was dead serious. Both of which had been happening with more frequency since she'd been relegated to bed rest a few weeks ago. He tried again anyway. "How about -"

"No. We're not naming a baby High Five. We're not naming a baby anything that has anything to do with surfing. Not High Five, not Choka, not Bodhi, not Rip, and definitely," she peered at him, "not Booger."

Keeping her unstressed while carrying the twins was one of the reasons why Veronica had been assigned to bed rest. And the name topic was apparently stressing her a bit. He placated her, "I promise we won't name either of the babies Booger."

She opened one of her eyes and studied him, searching for sincerity in his visage... And seeing none. She cursed inwardly, _why did he have to be so damn cute?_ Taking a deep breath and releasing it she closed her eye again and concentrated on the bliss that was her cup of coffee.

Her cup of decaf coffee that her loving, idiotic, boyfriend had provided her.

"Ronnie?" Dick slunk lower in the bed, resting his lanky frame as he leaned his head next to Veronica's neck. "Baby?"

She shivered with pleasure despite her eight month girth and her righteous indignation over Dick's quest to name one or more of their children after a sport.

He apparently took her shiver as a sign to continue. "Ronnie, baby?"

She sighed, "Yes."

"Marry me?"

Veronica groaned. They'd been through this. They'd been through this a lot. Dick had asked her to marry him at least once a month since they'd gotten pregnant.

She kept saying no, but he kept asking.

Before she could open her mouth to issue her standard 'no', Dick announced, "Dude, I'm going to win at least one of these arguments." His voice dropped to a suggestive octave, "as you know, I can be very single-minded." He shrugged and added, "It's your choice as to whether you give in on the name argument or the marriage argument."

"Wait a minute, you know what 'single-minded' means?"

Dick grinned against Veronica's neck, delivered a kiss to the soft skin there, and lifted his hand to her belly. "Yes, it means I'm going to get something I want. I'm either giving our babies a name, or I'm giving you my last name."

"Dick, marriage is-"

He mimicked her oft heard speech, "an antiquated tradition that means little more than that a man has laid claim to the woman of his choosing. " He air quoted the rest of Veronica's rant, "'And I refuse to be owned'." He kissed her neck again. "Dude, I don't want to own you, I want to be owned BY you,... I mean, fuck yeah, - OW!" He rubbed the bicep she'd bopped in response to his swearing, "I mean, 'heck yeah' I want the world to know you're mine," He hurried on as he felt her body tense, "but Babe, I want them all to know that I belong to you too. You know, kinda like you're the Yin to my Yang."

Veronica snorted, "Yin is masculine, Yang is feminine."

"Yeah, well, whatever, I want you to be my curly one-eyed sperm looking thing, and I'll be yours."

"You do know you just insulted a whole culture with that description; don't you have any respect for anything?"

"Surfing. And you. I respect surfing and you. Not necessarily in that order."

Veronica smiled lightly at the implication that Dick weighed her above surfing. Changing the topic, she asked, "How did the meeting with Arbor and Smith go?"

"Good. Really good. They say 'hi' by the way." He rubbed his hand over the babies, "We're ready to take on Florida now and we're starting serious market research on Australia in January."

Veronica teased proudly, "Aww, my little man is doing market research!"

"Little man?"

"Oh please, my worshiping at the foot of the alter of your physique is what got us into this," she placed her hand atop his on her stomach, "situation in the first place. You know you're hot, I'm not going to feed into your ego anymore. Especially when I look like a beached freakin' whale."

"Dude, you know _you're_ hot. You've _always_ been hot. You're still _totally_ hot," He had never found pregnant women sexy before, but now... Veronica, getting a little bigger each day, with his babies? Yeah... sexy. He let his hand drop down her belly to the edge of her pants, "I'll do you right now and enjoy every minute of it."

"Dick!" Her eyes flew open and she trapped his hand in place.

"What?" He lifted his eyes and stared at her. "You do know I'd _totally_ do you."

She couldn't stop the smile that slid across her face. His declaration wasn't sweet by most of society's standards, but for Dick... and to her when she was feeling her least sexiest ever..., it was sweet. She lifted her hand to his jaw and let her thumb pass over his cheek. "Why are you so adorable?"

He stared at her and with his voice low and serious he asked her again, "Veronica Mars, Baby, will you marry me? Be mine and totally let me be yours?"

She slowly moved her thumb along Dick's lower lip; she kept her gaze on his lips, intent on avoiding his eyes. "You want me to be that girl huh? The girl who gets married because she's knocked-up."

Dipping his head slightly, Dick kissed Veronica's thumb. "Not fair Ronnie." The first time he'd asked her to marry him had been a year and a half ago, six months after their fateful airplane crash. If he hadn't seen the fear, hadn't heard the panic in her voice when she said 'no' that first time, he would have been crushed. As it was he'd been badly bruised. But after licking his wounds he'd glued himself back to her side. He'd stuck with Veronica.

So yeah, he'd asked her to marry him after being together for six months and she'd freaked... as much as Veronica Mars could freak about anything. There'd been snark. And iciness and then there'd been hot sex.

He'd asked her to marry him at their one year anniversary, and this time she didn't freak; this time, she delivered 'the speech' for the first time. The 'just an antiquated tradition' and 'women shouldn't be thought of as possessions' speech. He'd been bruised again, but it had been less painful this time. Less scary. This time he knew she loved him. She'd even said it a few unguarded times in the previous months.

And then he'd asked her to marry him six months ago. A year and a half into their relationship. She'd looked at him, blinked, spat out 'the speech' and tacked on a hurried, "And by the way I'm pregnant" at the end.

Literally Dude, that's how she'd announced she was pregnant.

After he'd woken up from his faint, Dick had asked her to marry him again.

She'd said no again.

He'd been asking her to marry him pretty much every 2-4 weeks since then.

And she'd been saying 'no'.

Using 'the speech' to say no.

His skin had toughened, he didn't bruise, much, anymore when she said no. And that was because And he knew, KNEW Veronica Mars loved him.

It's just that she was scared. A scared, soft, vulnerable, marshmallow.

Surrounded by a layer of teflon.

Surrounded by a layer of iron.

And he was pretty certain the iron was surrounded by something else too, but he was breaking through. It was just taking a little longer than he'd anticipated.

"Not fair Ronnie."

"Yeah well all's fair in love and war?"

"And you love me, don't you?" he asked the words in a sing-songy tone. A tone that would have pissed the hell out of her two years ago, but now, she just found to be irritatingly/adorably Dickian.  He pressed his lips against hers fleetingly, "Don't you Ronnie?"

She was tired. And scared. And in love. And tired... so she gave in, just for a little bit. "What did that ring look like again?"

He'd stopped presenting the ring with his proposals after the second refusal. But he still had it.

Rolling onto his back and trying not to hyperventilate about what her request to see the ring might mean, Dick opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out the velvet box. He turned back to face Veronica and flipped the top up.

She stared at the ring for a few seconds before holding out her hand. They were both proud to note that her fingers barely shook. She tried to keep her tone light, "Maybe I'll just try it on for size."

Dick shimmied the ring out of its box, took Veronica's hand and as he slid it on he asserted, "Sorry dude, once it goes on, it doesn't come off."

She held her hand up and studied her new accessory as Dick, grin splitting his face, laid back down next to Veronica – head at her shoulder, hand on her stomach. "Is that the relationship rule version of 'you break it, you buy it?"

"Yup."

"You do know that if I'm going to have to wear one of these non-take-offable things, so are you."

"Mmm hmm."

She remained silent for a few more seconds before asking: "Are you going to wipe that smug smile off of your face anytime soon?"

"In a little while." He rubbed her stomach soothingly then teased, "Hey Ronnie?"

"Hey Dickie?"

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider Booger? Booger Casablancas has a definite ring to it."


End file.
